Picking Out Stars in a Galaxy
by alikat522
Summary: A set of Animorphs drabbles. No set theme, no set number, just little moments between a variety of characters.
1. Their Special One

Disclaimer: Animorphs and all things related belong to K.A. Applegate and Scholastic. I just like to hang out in their world.

**Their Special One**

The will never admit it, but they are both disappointed. They had silently hoped against hope that genetics would do them a favor and give them a gifted child, that he would somehow, against all logic, have an Andalite mind, or a seer mind, or something other than what he was guaranteed to have.

They knew they should be happy. Seerow was progressing at a perfectly normal rate for a Hork-Bajir his age, even one being raised in a war zone. He learned how to scrape bark and leap through the trees and chatter away in his Hork-Bajir language. He followed the things that his mother and father taught him, memorizing with all of his might. But it was just that: memorization. He knew that the lights in the sky were stars, but if asked to explain what stars were, he might as well just call them sky flowers. He could not comprehend or imagine great balls of burning gas in space. It was a miracle that he had been taught multiplication.

It was hard. She had never exactly fantasized about being a mother like other females had, but she had thought about a family. She had thought about teaching her children to tail fight, about running through fields, and about telling them the proud histories of the Andalite people. Now she used a mouth to hum lullabies to a lizard. He had dreamed about having another like him. Now, he looked on his son, and could not help appraising him as a future soldier, a simple-minded force to move and use as needed. This was just one more Hork-Bajir, and what right did he have to value his own progeny over anyone else's?

But despite their disappointment, their sadness, their quietly crushed or re-evaluated dreams, they loved their son. They loved the little family that they had been able to cobble together in the middle of this hell. They loved the hope that they had when they looked at him. Not an Andalite. Not a seer. Not anything more than average. But he was theirs. And that was enough.


	2. Old Soldiers

I will admit it; Marco was right. He's always right about stuff like that, and he has known me for too long for me to pretend otherwise. I came here looking for another fight, another battle, another experience that would ruin and break me, but make me feel alive enough to stop remembering.

In a sick, twisted, wrong way, I am jealous of Rachel. She got to go out in the final battle. She didn't live to see victory, but it was in sight, and she thought that her death was contributing to that victory. It turned out to be pointless, but she didn't know that. She didn't know how much I had messed up. And she didn't have to stay behind and deal with the aftermath. She didn't have to see the utter shame in Cassie's eyes. She didn't have to look at the parents mourning their sons and daughters and the others mourning their friends, human, Andalite, Hork-Bajir, Taxxon, and yes, even Yeerk. She didn't have to hear the world thanking her, when all her brain can remind her of is all of the lives she needlessly took. She got out easy. It was the rest of us that had to stay.

Cassie moved on, as much as her heart could ever let her. I think she is still trying to atone, and who knows, maybe she will someday. If she does enough good, maybe she can wash her hands clean. Marco tried to ignore it, and did a decent job. He had his fame, his fortune, and his family back. For Ax, the war was a stepping stone, raising him up higher than he ever could have been before. They all had more than they did when the war started.

Tobias' has suffered, so much. She was his only link to reality, and I broke it. I don't think he really felt the other deaths, because he was so enveloped in memories of her. At least they can be together now.

But me? I've just been fading, fading for years. No more enemies to fight, no more comrades to look out for, no more wars to win, lose, or just survive. So yes, Marco was right. I was looking for this. It is a better end then I would have ever gotten anywhere else. Just like Rachel, my death might lead to a victory. I guess that's all an old soldier can ask.

"Ram the Blade Ship!"


	3. Going On

{What are you going to do when I die?}

{You need to rest. I know the Illispar keeps you alert, but you need the sleep too. Try to relax your mind.}

{It is a straightforward question. Answer it. We need to start arranging something. Once "Henry McClellan" stops appearing, other humans are going to come eventually. What are you going to do when they come to see if the house is abandoned?}

{You said you had been talking to the others at work, arranging to work from home. I could pick up for you. Plenty of humans live without outside interactions; "Henry" could just become even more of a recluse.}

{And then what? You stay in this house, hiding and alone, until you die? That is the thought that is supposed to bring me comfort?}

{You need to get some sleep. These last few days have been hard on you, I can see it.}

{…I am sorry I have failed you.}

{What? Have you gone mad? In what way have you failed me?}

{Do not pretend. We can both see how much I have let you down. I caused you to be injured. I caused you to be trapped here. I even allowed you to be captured by Yeerks, all through my weakness. I had to enlist the help of children to rescue you…I am not strong enough to deserve you.}

{Shut up before I hit you. I may not have a tail blade anymore, but time with humans shows just how effective hands are as weapons.}

{What?}

{Are you forgetting that I was a member of the Andalite military too? That I have trained just as hard as you, harder even, because I have not been able to morph away injuries? I am plenty strong on my own. And do not keep placing blame on yourself when it does not belong there. You did not make me allergic to morphing technology. You did not choose to have Soola's disease. You did not purposely crash into my ship, and it was just as much my responsibility to avoid crashing as yours. You have done so much for me, I cannot begin to thank you enough. Never let me hear you again say that you are a failure. Or I may just have to kill you myself.}

{You will be alone.}

{Yes, and it is going to hurt. Losing you will be the hardest thing I have ever gone through. But we are Andalites. Out of respect for life-}

{-we have to endure.}

{Yes. It is going to be hard, but we will both find some way to endure. Now, please, sleep. We will discuss more in the morning.}

{You get some rest too. Caring for me is certainly no easy task.}

{Especially when you are so stubborn.}

{Please, come here beside me.}

{Of course. There is no place in the universe I would rather be.}


	4. Dialogue

"Where do you think you're going, young man?"

_Come on, give me hell for it. _

"Oh, hey Mom. Just out to meet up with some friends."

"On a school night?"

_Yeah, I should be up in bed, getting some sleep. I have no business going out at this hour._

"It's for a class project. We left it kind of late, sorry."

"What class?"

_Uh huh, find the holes in the story, they're not hard to find. Just dig a bit._

"Bio. Mr. Nyholm's got us doing a genome project with fruit flies; we're supposed to trace the mutations down through different generations. Some pretty weird stuff. We have the experiment done, we just need to compare notes on the write up."

"Well, okay. What time are you going to be back?"

_Seriously? You're gonna let me get away with that bullshit lie? What, I drop a teacher's name and suddenly it's legit? For all you know I'm going out to drop acid on the beach. God damn it, you really suck sometimes._

"It should only take a few hours, just to iron out the details."

"Well, okay. If it gets past curfew, give me a call, alright?"

_You really let me down sometimes. It's been so long, and you still haven't noticed. I'd hate you for it. If I didn't spend so much time missing you._

"Hey, no need to worry. But yeah, I'll give you a call if it runs past midnight."

"Okay, have a good time, get your work done. Love you, Tom."

_I love you too._

"I love you too."


	5. Seven Minutes

Unfortunately, the impact did not kill them.

No, the _Rachel_ turned out to be made of sturdier stuff than the Yeerks. Hadn't that always been the way of it? The Blade Ship crumpled and the monstrosities that had been created aboard it drifted out into brutal emptiness. But the _Rachel_stayed strong.

Not impervious, of course. There was damage, huge holes in the hull spewing precious air into outer space. The readings said that they had seven minutes of air left.

"It's funny, you know?" said Marco, holding a hand to his bleeding forehead. "On ships in the old days, the fear was always that something was gonna get in. Now it's all trying to keep stuff from getting out."

{Yeah. I don't think we can get our air back with buckets.}

"So...you think Jake's gonna wake up before the end?"

{I don't know. He hit his head pretty hard.}

"Probably, uh, probably better. He got the last bad-ass line. Hanging around after that just makes it lose its impact. No pun intended."

{No pun found.}

"Heh. Nice... You think the other two are gonna be able to get that escape pod out?"

{Don't know. Besides, there's not enough supplies for them to reach anywhere safe.}

"Might as well have a little stupid hope for the best. That's what being an Animorph was all about."

{Amen.}

"Didn't know you were religious, Bird Boy. A bird of prey, if you will."

{Shut up. You know what you said before about hanging around making something lose its impact?}

"Yeah, I know. I'm just one big punchline, going on way past when it's funny. But hey, at least no one has to know how stupid my final words were. That's the beauty of going down with the ship."

{Aye aye.}


	6. Old Souls

The younger generations barely believed it anymore. They could not conceive that Yeerks such as that could exist. There were rabble-rousers, of course, and weak sympathizers who believed that taking an involuntary host was wrong. And what overgrown grub had not had a twinge of misgivings the first time they had to push back the screams of a host? But an entire group of elder Yeerks who had willingly never left the home world? How could that even be?

But they still existed, in remote pools scattered across the barren landscape of the rough-edged planet. They would take Gedds occasionally, but more often than not, they remained in the pools, conversing with each other and going about their lives. They dedicated their existences to more intellectual pursuits, the deep questions that can be pondered when all one has to do is float in the sludge for years on end.

"How can you turn it all down?" they would be asked, surrounded by grubs returning from their first infestation. "How can you pass up the chance to be so big?"

Yeerks are big enough, they would remind the young ones. Before you squeezed yourself inside a giant, had you ever thought yourself small?

"What about moving? What about hands? How can you refuse to use them, to influence your world?"

The world is already good. The pool is warm, and the Kandrona shines brightly, and you are surrounded by your fellows. What more could you need to do?

"But eyes. What about eyes? How can you give up eyes?"

Do not be jealous of the host bodies, young ones. For they spend so much time seeing, that they have forgotten how to think. Do not be an unthinking Yeerk, dear grubs. Our Empire has too many of those.


	7. Made

He did not know how the Howler had become separated from its group, or how it had come to find him. He supposed that Crayak's minions had senses beyond those of most mortal creatures. It could not hurt him, of course, no matter how hard it tried. And try it did. It shrieked and clawed and shot and stabbed, but every blow passed through him.

At first, the Howler found it incredibly fun: an extra challenge for its game, a bonus level with harder settings. Eventually, though, it became bored and petulant. It was not a pleasant look for a killing machine. It stomped around his home, kicking at walls and growling about the unfairness of it. He was being so mean, taking away its fun? Why wouldn't he start bleeding, already?

The Howler wandered and wandered, bored and frustrated. He worried that it might be trying to gain information, but there was nothing to learn here that Crayak did not already know. This was only a physical location at all because he had fancied having a place to be. With nothing to find or destroy or do, the Howler had no idea how to spend its time.

So it talked. Talking had always seemed interesting when other species did it. It had never had to talk to other Howlers, but it could not feel them now. The others were detached from its mind by the walls of his home, and it had time, for the first time, to be alone inside its own head. And to have a real conversation.

"What are you?"

I am the Ellimist.

"Why?"

Because I made myself this way.

"Why?"

Because I became more than what I was born as.

"Oh…"

Do you have more questions, little one?

"What's born?"

To be born is to come together out of separate elements, to combine different parts to bring about a unique new whole.

"Oh. You were born?"

Yes. A very long time ago.

"Was Crayak born?"

Perhaps. I imagine so.

"Was I born?"

No. You were created in a factory. You were made from carefully predetermined amounts. The same amounts used to make all of your siblings.

"Oh."

Yes.

"Is it a bad thing to be made?"

Not as bad as it is to be unmade.

"What does that mean?"

You will find out eventually. But it is not my place to tell you.

"Oh. Do you have anything to shoot?"

No, I do not.

"That's no fun."


	8. Authority

Deep inside the depth of the Blade Ship, there is a sealed room that subordinates are not allowed to enter. It is adjacent to the Visser's personal quarters, and strange noises, deep grunts and shrill squeals, can occasionally be heard through the walls. Three Hork-Bajir are always assigned to the room, but none of them will tell their fellows what is inside the room. Everyone has come to believe that it is something horrible, a private torture chamber, or lab for experimentation too cruel to even think of. They never even entertain the thought of entering.

At least once in every three day cycle, Visser Three will enter the room and seal the door behind him, with the instructions that he not be disturbed unless Andalites are attacking. Nothing else could be important enough to disturb him.

For when Visser Three is in the sealed room, out of the eyes of his subordinates, free to let his foulest, most corrupt self be reveled without concerns about propriety, he reaches out with his Andalite hand, past the heavy bars of a cage, and…

strokes the head of his most recent pet. The shepara purrs beneath his touch. The small creature, captured on a moon around the Sstram planet, is venomous to most creatures, but the Visser has raised this one since it was a hatchling. He supposes he will acquire it when it grows to maturity, but he will keep this one around all the same.

He passes the shepara's cage and greets his Mortrons. Jarex and Larex passed away many years ago, but their spawn had produced another strong specimen, which he had named Starex. Again, he already had the morph, but there was something satisfying about having the actual creature, about seeing it rotate its wheels in greeting.

His menagerie was fully stocked and well-tended by the Hork-Bajir controllers, but he still tried to visit as often as he could. These were his pets, and they needed his company.

He leaves the menagerie and immediately snaps back into the composure that comes with his position of authority. He cannot have his subordinates thinking him weak or foolish. It is a small preference of his, and, he liked to believe, his only weakness.

When he destroys this world, he will have his own planetary zoo, and no one will dare laugh at him or his pets.


	9. Alternate

They had always pushed him too far, pressed him too hard, just because he had not been there from the beginning. After all they had gone through together, at the bottom of the ocean, on the planet of the Iskoort, in the freezing cold of the Artic, they still viewed him as an outsider. The psycho Rachel that had almost killed them all just a few weeks ago still got more respect than he did (although at least he had been held in higher esteem then the cringing version of Rachel; he did have to admit to himself that he had gotten some vindictive pleasure out of that). He would never be a full Animorph, no matter how hard he tried.

Marco had learned to bite back his comments, but that made it worse, in a strange way. He was coldly polite to David, while joking about all the others, marking David as the perpetual outsider. Rachel bantered with him occasionally, but only when she had nothing better to do. Cassie coddled him with all of her pity. And Jake expected him to fall in line like a good little soldier. It was all infuriating.

But the worst was Tobias.

They had all finally realized that living in Cassie's barn was unacceptable, from a security standpoint, if not an outright human decency perspective. They had moved him to a few different homes. He had been bored stiff by the Hork-Bajir inside a day. The Chee weren't so bad, but he had never been a big dog fan, and they were all a little too nice and accommodating. So while he went to Erek's when he needed a shower or a change of clothes, he ended up spending most of his time in Ax's scoop. And once they had set up a TV schedule to stop them from arguing over the remote, and Ax had learned that teenage human males occasionally needed a bit of privacy to take care of certain, very important tasks, they ended up getting along fairly well. If anything, they both knew what it was to be a military brat.

It was this that ended up ruffling a few angsty feathers. Tobias had become so used to being Ax's only true companion, to being closer to the Andalite than the rest of the team. When they had learned the story of Tobias' heritage, it seemed like the two would become even closer, a mix of best friends and nephew and uncle. But with him living in the scoop, the duo became a trio. Tobias suddenly had to share the first person who he had been able to call a best friend. And for all that their childhoods had not been normal, both he and David were only children. They had never learned to share and play nice.

All of this raced through David's mind as the light faded out of the red circle. He wasn't even supposed to be here. Tobias was the only one who was supposed to be caught. He was sure that Tobias had rigged this somehow; no way he would have volunteered to be captured and experimented on if he hadn't had some ulterior motive. Yes, it was all Tobias' fault. The hawk twitched and whimpered in the cage next to his, but he must have been laughing inside.

All of them were in one it, all of the Animorphs, and the Chee too. The anti-morphing ray hadn't worked on him, even though he wasn't trapped like Tobias, so what had been the point of this mission? To catch David, to get rid of him once and for all, to take it back to the original Animorphs. He had been a fool to ever think he was a real team member. He was the new kid, all over again, and he was drowning in pain while they all laughed at him.

Not anymore. The crazy Yeerk hovered over him, her blonde hair looking so much like Rachel's, and he just hated them all so very much. His thought speak was quiet but clear.

"I'll tell you everything. They'll pay for what they did."


	10. Eucatastrophe

They all died.

It was tragic, but unavoidable, really. It was amazing that the six of them had lasted that long. They had been killed in morph, so that was a small blessing, at least. Four sets of parents were driven mad with worry, but they were not hunted down and infested.

The only one that had been in their own form was an Andalite aristh. Recordings were saved of the slaughter, and the images were broadcast across the galaxy. A battered and bloodied child, dying light years from home, crushed beneath the might of the Yeerk Empire.

It was no accident that the images found their way to Andalite eyes. Crowing Yeerk troops would send the files as a warning, a threat of what would come to any that stood in their way. Soon, the body was identified as that of Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthil, the younger brother of Prince Elfangor.

Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf and Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen were told not to try to find the images.

They did anyway.

They had not seen their Aximili-kala in so long, they barely recognized him.

It was the last straw. The populace had the results of the battle on Earth shoved in their faces. Were an aristh and a few warriors all the defense that could be spared for such a large battle front? Why was the rest of the fleet not there? Why was the Electorate dawdling so long, when children were dying on the front lines? The voice of the people began to rise up against the military class. It was finally time for the princes to start taking notice of Earth.

They went in with Shredders blazing, fully stocked Dome ships charging into battle. With a few stray pictures, the war had struck a personal chord, and the time for the main assault was long overdue.

They crushed the Yeerks within a week.

With the defeat of the Andalite bandits, the Yeerks had shifted strategic power to the unguarded planet. When the fleet did arrive, they took out the main powerhouse of the Empire, and crippled it so severely that surrender was the only recourse. They were beaten back, routed from the planets they had already captured, and corralled back into their sludge filled home world.

Some Yeerks claimed that they had been part of a peace movement, that they had been actively resisting the Empire, alongside the Analite bandits. These were obviously Yeerk lies, and the treacherous slugs were executed for their attempts at sabotage.

And so the war was won, by the power and determination of the Andalite military. The sacrifice of Aristh Aximili and the five unidentified warriors had led to the greatest victory of the Andalite race, which continued to shine proud throughout the universe, a symbol of peace and tranquility.

And from the darkness, the Kelbrid watched.


End file.
